Doctor in Clover (14 page)

The literary lunch at Porterhampton was a great success. I’d spent the morning autographing copies of the novel in the local bookshop, and even if most people did come up and ask if I sold postcards it had been fun signing something different from prescriptions for cough mixture. The old Wattles were all over me, and Ma Wattle even made a speech.

‘We look upon Gaston Grimsdyke as one of Porterhampton’s own sons,’ she asserted. ‘It will be a great consolation to Dr Wattle and myself, now that we have reached the later years of our lives, to remember that he once lived beneath our humble roof. But I must not keep you from our honoured guest, whom I am sure will treat us to that delightful wit which we in Porterhampton are already privileged to know so well. Meanwhile, it is my great pleasure to present him, on behalf of his former patients, with this splendid chiming clock.’

After that I told them the story of the parrot, which everyone now seemed to think funnier than ever. Though I was a hit put off half-way through noticing little Avril Atkinson eyeing me from the end of the table.

‘Sorry I was so cross that foggy night,’ she smiled, catching me as I dashed for my train. ‘It was only the mumps, you know. Doesn’t it make you feel wretched?’

‘All healed, I trust?’

‘Everything is healed now, Gaston. But there’s just one little favour I’d like to ask you. Could you possibly get me Melody Madder’s autograph? I suppose these days you actually know her, don’t you?’

I reached London in time to decide comfortably which West End restaurant to try for dinner, and felt it would be rather pleasant to drop into my club for a whisky and soda. The first person I met in the morning-room was old Miles.

‘My dear chap,’ I said, offering him a cigar. ‘How’s the new job going at Swithin’s?’

‘Congratulations.’

‘That’s jolly kind of you. But I believe you very kindly gave me them shortly after the book came out.’

‘Not that. I mean on becoming a member of this club.’

He seemed to have some difficulty in talking, what with grinding his teeth.

‘Oh, that. Thanks. Actually, old Carboy put me up. He says an author needs a bit of standing. Care for a drink?’

‘No. No thank you. I must get off to a meeting at St Swithin’s.’

He turned to go.

‘Gaston–’

‘Yes, Miles?’

‘I admit I’m finally on the consultant staff at St Swithin’s. I admit I’ve struggled and schemed all my life to get there. I admit it is my major ambition achieved even before my middle age. But damnation! When I think of all the work, the years, the worry…and…and…you, just scribbling away on bits of paper…’

The poor chap seemed about to burst into tears, which I’m sure would never have done in the Parthenon.

‘Here, steady on, old lad.’

‘All right. I’ll steady on. I won’t say any more. Except one thing. Do you happen to know, Gaston, that you have made me the laughing-stock not only of St Swithin’s but of the entire medical profession? Do you? I am aware of it. I am aware of it perfectly well. People don’t come out with it, of course. Oh, no. Not now I’m a consultant. But the students…only the other day I heard one shout, “Three cheers for Clifford Standforth” as I walked in to lecture. Everyone knows as well as I do that you made the character a ghastly caricature of myself. Your own cousin, too!’

‘If I may refer you to that little bit inside the fly-leaf, all characters are entirely imaginary and any resemblance–’

‘Bah!’ said Miles, and walked out.

‘Give my love to Connie,’ I called after him.

I ordered my drink and wondered if I could nip down to Cartier’s before they shut and buy a wedding present for Petunia. I’d been rather startled when she’d told me at the studio the day before she was marrying Jimmy Hosegood after all.

‘It was Mum, I suppose,’ she explained. ‘She wanted me to marry Jimmy, so I didn’t. Then she didn’t want me to, so I did. But I’m terribly in love with him, darling. Even Mum’s becoming reconciled. Now he’s got a seat on my board.’

I didn’t say anything. I supposed all women are a bit potty, and actresses especially so.

‘Besides,’ Petunia went on, ‘look at the difference in him now he’s got back from Morecambe. He’s even skinnier than Quinny Finn.’

The odd thing was, after Hosegood’s blow on the head he could eat as much as he liked without putting on an ounce. A jolly interesting piece of clinical research, I thought, which I’d have written up for the
British Medical Journal
if they hadn’t been after my address all these years over those arrears of subscription. As for Petunia, she was just the same, though I noticed she’d turned into a blonde.

I lit another cigar, and was making for the front door feeling pretty pleased with myself, when I heard a roar behind me.

‘You, boy!’

I turned round.

‘You, Grimsdyke. I want a word with you.’

‘Ah, yes, sir.’

‘Come here. And shut the door after you. I can’t tolerate draughts.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Sit down there. Not like that, boy. You haven’t got a spinal curvature, have you, from leaning all your life on the counters of four-ale bars?’

‘No, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘Now just you listen to me, young feller me lad.’

Sir Lancelot sat back and placed his fingers together.

‘I recall you once tried to make a fool of me as a student. Some nonsense about distributing invitations for my nonexistent birthday party. I could easily forgive that, knowing your pathetically infantile sense of humour. But I cannot forgive your making a much bigger fool of me in front of a duke, a marquis, and a couple of earls, not to mention a mixed bag of civil dignitaries. And please chuck that cigar away. If you haven’t the taste to choose something better, my advice is to give up smoking.’

‘Yes, sir. Terribly sorry, sir. But I did explain in my letter of apology how I’d sort of put the
carte blanche
before the horse.’

‘An explanation is not an excuse. Fortunately for St Swithin’s, nobody quite understood what passed between us on the platform. I suppose they were all too intent looking at the young woman you brought. Equally fortunately, Sir James McKerrow was singularly sympathetic when I confided the story – not to mention singularly amused – and donated an additional ten thousand pounds from the funds of his Foundation. None of this prevents my telling you, Grimsdyke, that you are a young man of extremely limited intelligence, mediocre ability, flabby moral fibre, and more bright ideas than are good for you. The fact that you, a grown adult, let everyone push you about as they wish is a perfect disgrace, particularly when it’s your own cousin. You understand me?’

‘Yes, sir. Exactly, sir.’

‘You agree with me?’

‘I suppose I do, sir.’

‘You will kindly take pains to mend your ways in future. Please remember however much your name appears in the papers, as far as I am concerned you’re still the miserable little moronic worm I remember when you first stuck your beastly acne-infected face into my operating theatre.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Sir Lancelot, suddenly very affable. ‘I thought I’d get that over to prevent yer getting a swelled head. Now let’s have a drink, and I’ll buy you a decent cigar.’

It was midnight when Sir Lancelot and I left the club together.

‘Can I give you a lift?’ he asked. ‘Though I suppose you’ve got a Rolls of your own now.’

‘I’m sticking to the old 1930 Bentley, thank you, sir.’

‘And what are you going to do now?’

‘Write another book for Mr Carboy, I suppose.’

‘No more medicine?’

‘I’m afraid not, sir.’

‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Medical truants have played as much of a part in helping our world forward as a good many doctors. And personally I find nothing so stimulating as the smell of burning boats. But you’ll miss it.’

‘I think perhaps I shall, really, sir.’

‘However, as you will remain on the Medical Council’s
Register
till death or striking off do you part, you are perfectly at liberty to open an abcess or deliver a baby whenever the occasion arises and you happen to feel like it. And you probably will. Medicine, like murder, will out.’

‘Unless I send my cases to Miles at St Swithin’s.’ I smiled.

‘If you see him, by the way, say I’m sorry I made him sweat a bit over his appointment. Of course, it was a foregone conclusion. I just wanted to cut him down to size. That, Grimsdyke, is one of the most valuable operations in the whole repertoire of surgery. Good night, my boy.’

‘Good night, sir.’

‘And you might also tell your cousin I knew perfectly well he didn’t have a nervous breakdown at that examination. But I don’t really think a fellow ought to get bottled just before he comes up for his finals.’

Sir Lancelot drove off, leaving me with plenty of food for thought. I realized more than ever what a really great chap he was. But the most important thing about him was having such a jolly good sense of humour.

(in order of first publication)

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

(in order of first publication)

(in order of first publication)

Published by House of Stratus

The Captain’s Table When William Ebbs is taken from a creaking cargo boat and made Captain of a luxury liner, he quickly discovers that the sea holds many perils…probably the most perilous being the first night dinner, closely followed by the dangers of finding a woman in his room. Then there is the embarrassing presence of the shipping company’s largest shareholder, a passenger over board and blackmail. The Captain’s Table is a tale of nautical misadventure and mayhem packed with rib-tickling humour. ‘An original humorist with a sly wit and a quick eye for the ridiculous’ – Queen

Doctor and Son Recovering from the realisation that his honeymoon was not quite as he had anticipated, Simon Sparrow can at least look forward to a life of tranquillity and order as a respectable homeowner with a new wife. But that was before his old friend Dr Grimsdyke took to using their home as a place of refuge from his various misdemeanours…and especially from the incident with the actress which demanded immediate asylum. Surely one such houseguest was enough without the appearance of Simon’s godfather, the eminent Sir Lancelot Spratt. Chaos and mayhem in the Sparrow household can mean only one thing – more comic tales from Richard Gordon’s hilarious doctor series. ‘Further unflaggingly funny addition to Simon Sparrow’s medical saga’ – Daily Telegraph

Doctor at Large Dr Richard Gordon’s first job after qualifying takes him to St Swithan’s where he is enrolled as Junior Casualty House Surgeon. However, some rather unfortunate incidents with Mr Justice Hopwood, as well as one of his patients inexplicably coughing up nuts and bolts, mean that promotion passes him by – and goes instead to Bingham, his odious rival. After a series of disastrous interviews, Gordon cuts his losses and visits a medical employment agency. To his disappointment, all the best jobs have already been snapped up, but he could always turn to general practice…

Doctor at Sea Richard Gordon’s life was moving rapidly towards middle-aged lethargy – or so he felt. Employed as an assistant in general practice – the medical equivalent of a poor curate – and having been ‘persuaded’ that marriage is as much an obligation for a young doctor as celibacy for a priest, Richard sees the rest of his life stretching before him. Losing his nerve, and desperately in need of an antidote, he instead signs on with the Fathom Steamboat Company. What follows is a hilarious tale of nautical diseases and assorted misadventures at sea. Yet he also becomes embroiled in a mystery – what is in the Captain’s stomach remedy? And more to the point, what on earth happened to the previous doctor? ‘Sheer unadulterated fun’ – Star

Doctor in Clover Now Dr Grimsdyke is qualified he finds practising medicine rather less congenial than he anticipated. But the ever-selfless Grimsdyke resolves to put the desires of others (and in particular his rather career-minded cousin) before his own, and settle down and make the best of it. Finding the right job, however, is not always that easy. Porterhampton is suddenly rife with difficulties – as is being a waiter, as is being a writer. And writing obituaries is just plain depressing. Doctor in Clover finds the hapless Grimsdyke in a hilarious romp through misadventures, mishaps and total disasters.

Doctor in Love In this hilarious romantic comedy, Richard Gordon awakes one morning with a headache. It takes him a while to realise he is ill – after all he is a doctor! Dr Pennyworth diagnoses jaundice and prescribes a spell in hospital. But amongst the bedpans and injections on Honesty ward, Richard falls in love – with his very own Florence Nightingale. However he soon learns that he has a rival for her affections, and unwilling to lose his love to the pachyderm Dr Hinyman, Richard sets out to impress… More medical mayhem from the hilarious Richard Gordon.

Doctor in the House Richard Gordon’s acceptance into St Swithan’s medical school came as no surprise to anyone, least of all him – after all, he had been to public school, played first XV rugby, and his father was, let’s face it, ‘a St Swithan’s man’. Surely he was set for life. It was rather a shock then to discover that, once there, he would actually have to work, and quite hard. Fortunately for Richard Gordon, life proved not to be all dissection and textbooks after all… This hilarious hospital comedy is perfect reading for anyone who’s ever wondered exactly what medical students get up to in their training. Just don’t read it on your way to the doctor’s! ‘Uproarious, extremely iconoclastic’ – Evening News ‘A delightful book’ – Sunday Times

Doctor in the Nest Sir Lancelot Sprat, surgeon and patriot, is finding that his faith in the British National Health Service is taking a bit of a battering – especially when the ceiling of his operating theatre collapses. It had already been a bad day…a call from Nairobi, a disagreement with Miss MacNish over the breakfast haddock, and a visit from Sir Lionel… Sir Lancelot’s single-handed battle to save St Sepulchre’s Hospital from closure creates a hilarious tale, complicated by two ex-students and three ladies only too willing to satisfy a widower’s sexual desires.

Doctor in the Nude Mrs Samantha Dougal is against it. Nudity that is. In a Soho strip-club, the Dean of St Swithan’s Hospital feigns indifference. Mrs Dougal’s husband, however, is totally in favour – and has just moved in with the Dean, who just happens to be his brother-in-law. The jokes positively spill from this elegantly written and languorously witty tale that includes Sir Lancelot, the Queen, a totally impractical new building, and the voluptuous young daughter of the trendy hospital chaplain. ‘The jokes spill forth fresh and funny… Not a book to read on a train: it’s impossible to keep a straight face’ – Sunday Telegraph